Had Been, And Always Shall Be
by Lt. Basil
Summary: "Raising his hand, Kirk rested it against the glass, and nearly unconsciously, Spock returned the gesture, his fingers moving automatically into the shape of the Vulcan farewell. Funny that he would do so to a dying man, but... perhaps not so funny at the same time. 'Wherever you go, I wish you the best. Live long and prosper... my friend.'" Rated for character death. No yaoi.


**A/N: WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR INTO DARKNESS. I really loved the second Star Trek movie. IT WAS AMAZING! WATCH IT! I do not own Star Trek: Into Darkness; that is the property of J.J Abrams. **

**I really enjoyed the development in Kirk and Spock's relationship in this one, so I just had to write a piece about it. Reviews will earn you free ice cream (not really, I don't have enough money to buy a bunch of ice cream, but if you review, consider yourself on the receiving end of **_**virtual**_** free ice cream!) So please review!**

"Sir, you need to get down here."

Seven words was all it took. Seven little words was all that was needed to squash the relief that Spock had experienced as the _Enterprise _lurched up into the sky once again. Scotty's voice had been hollow, even through the distortion of the comlink, which was… troubling. Mr. Scott always had an upbeat jump in his voice, but as he spoke to Spock through his communicator, he sounded as if he were choking up. Clearing his throat and brushing himself off, Spock straightened up and moved purposefully towards the elevator, mentally tuning out the worried glances of the other crew members, or Nyota's hand on his shoulder. No need to panic before seeing the actual problem; it was illogical to allow oneself to worry so until he really knew what the problem was – regardless of the unusual behaviors of his more _eccentric _crew members.

The ten minutes that it took to get down to the engineering deck were the longest in his entire life. If asked what he was so worried about, he would, of course, flatly deny being worried about anything at all, but in truth… he was anxious. He knew he shouldn't be; cynicism was not his way, as he lived by his reason and common sense, as any good Vulcan would – but he couldn't help it. After all, he had just seen his superior officer stand at gunpoint right in front of his very eyes while he _himself _had to deal with negotiations with a man who was obviously a psychopath, and only minutes later, had his _starship _nearly get run aground (honestly, how often did _that _happen?). So forgive him if he was a little shaken up. It was, of course, only logical that he would be, right?

The maintenance deck was a maze of pathways and catwalks so tangled up and elaborate that they could confuse even someone as familiar with the ship as he. It took some time to navigate through them to reach Scott's location, and, as the commander was not required to have the layout of it perfectly memorized, like the engineers, he had to backtrack several times. When he _finally _found the head engineer, the sight he beheld made his heart drop into his toes.

Scotty was leaning against a wall near the entrance to the warp core, head hanging in defeat as he kept his arms carefully crossed over his chest. At Spock's approach, the engineer raised his head, turning tired, terrified eyes to the commander's face. As Spock gave him a questioning look, the man sighed and simply shook his head, looking beaten. Dread building up in his chest, the Vulcan turned to the glass door and peered through it. Bile instantly rose up in his throat.

Sprawled out on the ground next to the glass on the other side of the door was Captain Kirk, blood oozing out of the multiple cuts and lacerations pock marking his flesh. Ragged gasps caused his chest to rise and fall at irregular intervals while simultaneously causing his torn, burned body to shake uncontrollably. So he was alive, for now, at least. Spock, however, took no comfort in this fact. If the gauge beside the entrance were anything to go by, even if Kirk was alive now, he would not be for much longer. The radiation levels, though a miracle when it came to flying and controlling the ship, were far too high for a human such as him to handle. Mathematically, the chances of Kirk surviving were less than one percent.

Stepping forward, Spock stated in as level a voice as he could muster under such circumstances, "Open the door." A simple order, almost begging. But Scotty merely shook his head, and as he made his reply, his voice trembled just the slightest bit.

"That door's the only thing keeping the rest of us from all that radiation. Open it, and the compartment floods." Spock turned back to him, a hard, almost angry resolve dominating his expression, one that caused Scotty to raise his hands and add desperately, "It's locked, sir."

Biting his lip, Spock returned his attention to the door, crouching down in front of it and placing his right hand on the outer frame, trying to get a better look at Kirk, analyze his condition, and see if he could think of something – _anything _– that could possibly save him. On the other side, the captain stirred and turned just enough so that he could look his first officer in the eye. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, lacking their characteristic playful fire that Spock had grown so accustomed to. Pushing himself up slightly, he managed to croak out, "How's our ship?"

"Out of danger," Spock replied. He wanted to say more, but he didn't know what.

That reply seemed to satisfy Kirk, though; he leaned back slightly, nodding as a grimly satisfied expression slowly overtook his face. "Good." Breathing deeply, he lowered his head a bit, focusing on keeping himself up in a partially sitting position. Every movement was stiff and halting, making his eyes glaze over and his shoulders clench at the pain. Seeing that, seeing Kirk's condition, only seemed to make everything that was occurring all the more real. Immense pressure squeezed in Spock's chest, making him want to scream, but he reeled in the urge and kept his composure. He had to be strong now, not just for himself, but for his captain, as well.

"Using what he wanted against him," the dying man suddenly rasped, cracking a tiny smile. "That was a pretty good move." He chuckled. Spock wanted to slap himself on the forehead. Of course. He's dying, and still he treats everything as if it's a joke. Such a time was not right for that kind of foolishness. However, he could not bring himself to point that out.

"It is only what you would have done," he replied evenly, his voice strangely quiet. It was true; though the captain was rash, impulsive and a bit hot-headed at times, he was indeed quite intelligent, no mistaking that. No doubt that he would have been able to think up such a plan just as quickly as, if not more so than, the Vulcan had.

"No," Kirk wheezed, much to Spock's surprise. As he watched the captain quizzically, his comrade pointed at him and shook his head, smiling. "It was what _you _would have done. It was only logical."

_Wait… what? No, not exactly, _Spock thought, feeling a mixture of grimness and confusion. _Any other Vulcan would have called such a plan utter madness. And… it was. _But he couldn't say that out loud. Not when the man was so heavy with pain and resignation. _It's not supposed to end this way. Captain… Starfleet needs you more than it would ever need me. That shouldn't be you in there. It… it should be me… _How could he have let this happen? Kirk, as the captain of this starship, should not have made the climb down there; even the first officer was more acceptable for such a job. To have taken it upon himself to go down there and realign those circuits… why was it that the fool always felt such a need to play the hero?

Kirk's smile faded as quickly as it had come, and when he looked Spock in the eyes, the Vulcan thought that he saw something in them break. Never before had the captain looked so… vulnerable. Within Spock, something shattered, some seam that had once held him together ripping itself to pieces, leaving a deep, penetrating pain in its wake. It was as if he were falling apart. Eyes brimming with the deepest of pain, Kirk said the one thing that Spock was not able to verbally admit for himself. "I'm scared, Spock." His blue eyes were huge, lonely, terrified – the eyes of a man who had had fate catch up with him far too quickly. "Help me not to be." The pleading in his voice, the desperate cry for support, was heartbreaking – there was no way that Spock could just turn him away. Though his brain was screaming at him to think about the situation more thoroughly – what could you possibly do? everyone dies, why get so worked up about one person? what's the point in allowing yourself to break like this? – for once, he ignored his logic and paid attention to the sinking feeling in his gut. "How… how do you choose not to feel?" Kirk continued.

"I… I do not know." _It's always something that I've been able to do, even before I lost my homeworld, I could, but… _"Right now, I am failing." Spock's voice cracked as the unshed tears within him began to show through. His façade of emotionless indifference, his cool, level-headed persona, was failing. Only once before had he let it break like this, when Kirk had taunted him about what had happened to his planet, and even then… that pain had not been so bad. Well, it was bad, but… compared to this, it was easy. It didn't seep into his pores or claw at the inside of his stomach, nor did it seem to rip a gaping hole in the middle of his chest.

Glancing down momentarily, Kirk furrowed his eyebrows and considered his first officer's words. Sitting there on the other side of the glass, the Vulcan watched him wordlessly, allowing him his moment of silent reflection. When the captain looked up again, he did not look quite so afraid as he had before, though he still trembled. "I want you to know why I couldn't let you die. Why I went back for you." The way he said it made it sound like a goodbye – and maybe it was, but… this couldn't _really _be the end, could it? Kirk's life had only barely begun; he was too young to die now…

"Because… because you are my friend." It was both a revelation of something just realized and a confirmation of something already known. Something that he would never have admitted before, but deep down, truly believed with every fiber of his being. A single tear fell from his eye, one born without logic or thinking, but one simply brought along by intense, agonizing emotion. Raising his hand, Kirk rested it against the glass of the door, and nearly unconsciously, Spock returned the gesture, his fingers instinctively moving into the shape of the Vulcan farewell. Funny that he would do so to a dying man, and yet… perhaps not so funny, at the same time. _Wherever you go, I wish you the best. Live long and prosper… my friend…_

The last thing that Kirk did was smile; one which was weak, sad, and frightened, but a genuine smile nonetheless. Then, his hand slid slowly down the glass as he lost muscle control, and his eyes wandered from Spock's face to stare off at some unseen point in the distance. Only a few seconds later, all life and expression left him as his eyes glazed over and his body went lax. Spock sat there, staring numbly at the still form of his friend, mind barely registering what had just happened. For some reason, he half-expected – half-_hoped _– that he would look back at him, shouting something like "Boo!" or "Just kidding!" and laughing in his face. It was an illogical wish, one that he knew that he should not want, and yet… there it was. His first friend… his best friend… was gone.

It then hit him like a freight train. Kirk was gone – _really _gone – and nothing that anyone ever said or did would be able to bring him back. Every change that had happened between them, all their bonding, fighting, and bickering, had all been for nothing. _Nothing! _When his older self had first told him of his friendship with James Tiberius Kirk, he had expected more time to explore it than this. The man had seemed like a constant, always cracking jokes and causing mischief – it had never even crossed Spock's mind that he could ever be taken away like this. Had this never happened in the alternate reality? Surely this was not meant to happen!

Anger began to boil within Spock's chest. _Khan. _Had he never shown up, than none of this would ever have happened. That monster had _murdered _Kirk, shamelessly, without even thinking twice. Well, he was going to pay for it.

Spock threw his head back and screamed. "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

**I would like to know if I captured Spock's personality well enough. He's an awesome character, but he's kinda hard to write… so again, reviews are appreciated! **


End file.
